This is a song about "Love of music"

Way too big for my my fucking jeans

Track of tough love with tattered seems

Put it on whatever bitch, me and spitta high as shit

"hop if your not spreading love then why do you even write music?"

The music, acoustic smelling the breeze of sea salt

Who cut my power off? it’s time to move that powder soft

A lot of women from conversation could fall in love

So bitches hate to do me like it's convict community service

You walking down the block, he got shot, you are no eye witness

The groups of groupies looped in the hoops of the music business,

Music is my life, and it's my first love

So you can see why they mad, look at they status

Making dollar bills out of music

Bitches asses looking like dalmatians and shit

Music-wise credentials include the hardest of all grinds

But the love from the boppers had 'him watchin they rise